Wednesday #26 - Where's My Dead Body

Hey Dreamers! Do you realize what today is? It's the halfway mark! The year is halfway over already. Man, it feels like it was only 26 weeks ago that I decided to get back into blogging in the wee hours of the morning (there is a cat sitting on my hand as I am typing this), and now look at us: we made it to summer, we finished the school year, and we've survived to the halfway mark! It's all downhill from here (and that could mean either it's going to be progressively easier or harder as the year runs to completion...). That little piece of congratulations aside, let's talk about something this week, shall we?

Where Is My Dead Body?!?

     In role-playing video games (RPGs), it is a common practice to level up the world around the PC as they level up (i.e. when you reach level 10, the enemies that you'll fight are also level 10). In addition to the monsters, the equipment available to the PC increases in strength and value and such. For the purposes of this theory, I'll be using the game Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim for my examples.

Now that we know this, my question is: where are the dead bodies?

    If it takes fighting things to level up, therefore causing an increase to your knowledge in combat and your abilities characterized by a level up, it essentially takes dead bodies. And when you get to the higher levels of a game, it can take a lot of dead bodies. As one plays the game, we can see the dead bodies that the PC (player character, that's you) generates on their adventure, and we can also observe that the number of dead bodies per level up grows from level to level at an exponential rate (what once took 10 dead bodies to create now takes 100). Because we witness the creation of the dead bodies, we can easily understand how we became so strong. But, we don't ever get to see how the enemies get that way...

     According to the Elder Scrolls Wiki, "Hold Guards level with the Dragonborn until around level 50," which means that they are fighting things throughout that time, causing them to level up in accordance to the level of the main character, but for them to become that powerful, the guards would've had to have killed things to get that strong (either that, or a race of people notorious for their distrust of magic and their distaste for thieves would have to become very skilled in Lockpicking, Pick-Pocketing, Conjuration, Illusion, Alteration, and Sneaking). And this isn't just true of the guards. What about the bandits? They level with the PC until about level 28, but where are the bodies that they killed to get to be that level? The Draugr (ancient mummy Nords) are excusable, because they're from a different time, and are now raised dead,but what about the vampires? Or the Thugs that attack you? Or the Forsworn? All of these enemies level with the PC, but we never see the bodies! The only explanation that I have for this is that somewhere, of the shores of Tamriel, is a giant man-made island of dead bodies. And right next to it is the mound of weapons and armor.

     Not only do the enemies level up proportionally to the PC, but so do the available weaponry and armor. When the game begins, everyone has dinky little Iron weapons and armor, or fur armor, but by level 50, characters are toting around Elven and Dwarven and Glass and Ebony weapons! Where did they come from?!? Why didn't they have them before hand? The PC would've been dead so early on if the damn bandits used the Daedric Greatsword that was lying in their cave when the PC was level 3, instead of waiting until level 64. And where do the old weapons go? They have to go somewhere, especially if every month or so the entire population of Skyrim is upgrading (sure, it's mostly bandits, but still). 

     The only logical conclusion that we can make from this is that there is a massive mound of weapons, armor, and dead bodies polluting the oceans of Tamriel. Yep. That's gotta be it.

 Hearken now, sons of snow, to an age, long ago,
And the tale, boldly told, of the one!
Who was kin to both wyrm, and the races of man,
With a power to rival the sun!

And the voice, he did wield, on that glorious field,
When great Tamriel shuddered with war!
Mighty Thu'um, like a blade, cut through enemies all,
As the Dragonborn issued his roar!

And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold,
That when brothers wage war come unfurled!
Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound,
With a hunger to swallow the world!

But a day, shall arise, when the dark dragon's lies,
Will be silenced forever and then!
Fair Skyrim will be free from foul Alduin's maw!
Dragonborn be the savior of men!

Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honor is sworn,
To keep evil forever at bay!
And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's shout,
Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!

-The Song of the Dragonborn

Jeremy Soule

"Sky above, Voice within." -Arngeir, Skyrim, 2011

Wednesday #25 - The Summers of Hell

    Hello Dreamers! How are your summers going? Mines been fun, but involving a TON of late nights. In fact, Tuesday night was a very late night. It was my "24 hour staying awake" day, which is a thing I try and do every summer. Does it throw off my sleeping schedule? Sure. Do the other residents of my household disapprove of it? Oh yeah. Is there no rationalization for it? Nope.
     Am I still going to do it next year? Definitely. For one thing, it's a tradition, and one that I enjoy. It's kinda like the start of my summer, once I stay up to see the dawn of the new day. Until that point, summer is just kinda this thing that I'm muddling through... And that is no way to treat a summer! Well, the summer before the summer of Hell.
     What's the Summer of Hell, you ask? Excellent question.

The Summers of Hell

     There are two distinct Summers of Hell (that I am aware of), and they both occur after schooling. The first is after your senior year of high school, when your whole world is about to change, but is still situation normal. Your high school friends are still there, and your group is still hanging out, but you're all aware that this entire existence is just about to disappear, and high school innocence will soon be replaced with college responsibility. After that summer, the next time you'll be able to see all of your friends again will at the earliest be Thanksgiving, maybe Winter Break or Spring Break, but if you have anyone who will be going to school far away, then you'll most likely have to wait until the next Summer Break to see them. And both of you will have changed in that time period. You'll have made new friends, new jokes, faced new struggles and hardships, and all of these without your old high school buds. Makes you wish that high school was longer than four years, doesn't it.

     The second Summer of Hell that I can talk about (because it is the only other one that I'm aware of) is the summer after you graduate from college. Imagine how terrible that would be, leaving college. Leaving high school must be terrible, but at least you're going to another school. Once you leave college, you're out in the real world. Sure you can go to grad school, get a masters, but how are you going to pay for that? Or your food? And you'll have to be paying your own taxes. The job market becomes incredibly important to you. And all of these worries are running through your mind all throughout this summer, in a very compressed fashion, since you spent the past school year studying and trying to graduate in 4 years. Now, if you didn't go to college, and you're already working, you get to wonder about your life when all your high school friends leave college and go off to live their lives, and you're left with a considerably smaller friend pool. 

     It's a pretty sucky topic, but it's not gonna be fun.

Two Kinds of Intelligence

There are two kinds of intelligence: one acquired,
as a child in school memorizes facts and concepts
from books and from what the teacher says,
collecting information from the traditional sciences
as well as from the new sciences.
With such intelligence you rise in the world.
You get ranked ahead or behind others
in regard to your competence in retaining
information. You stroll with this intelligence
in and out of fields of knowledge, getting always more
marks on your preserving tablets.
There is another kind of tablet, one
already completed and preserved inside you.
A spring overflowing its springbox. A freshness
in the center of the chest. This other intelligence
does not turn yellow or stagnate. It’s fluid,
and it doesn’t move from outside to inside
through conduits of plumbing-learning.
This second knowing is a fountainhead
from within you, moving out.
-Coleman Barks

"We are all imperfect. We cannot expect a perfect government." -William Howard Taft

Wednesday #20 - Why I Wouldn't Want J.R.R. Tolkien to Kill Me

WHOA! It's been 20 weeks! You know the saying, time flies... and I forget the rest of it. 20 weeks guys (and girls). We're almost halfway through the year at this point, and it's starting to look up for us at this point. I mean, my Advanced Placement tests are now finished, after tonight I have very small obligations towards my acting class, and in a couple days, when the seniors from my high school leave, one of my classes gets reduced down to three students... Yep, it's almost time to checkout excessively large volumes of books from the library and spend hours each day in a hammock reading... But until that time, I said I was going to talk about AP tests, and so I shall.

AP Tests: Good, Bad, Ugly

     Good: N/A
     Bad: N/A
     Ugly: N/A (I told you, I can't talk about them...)
   
     Luckily, I have another post prepared!

Why I Wouldn't Want J.R.R. Tolkien To Kill Me

     First of all, I don't want anyone to kill me. I'd rather hold off on dying for as long as possible (or at least until next year, we've got a good thing going here). What I'm saying here is that I wouldn't want J.R.R. Tolkien to be the author of my demise (no matter how awesome it would be). The reasoning is simple: Tolkien's track record. Over the course of his works (specifically The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, The Silmarillion, and any film adaptations of his works), many people and creatures die. And just about all of them in horrible, agonizing ways.
Boromir: Son of Denethor, captain of the Citadel Guard of Gondor, best known Tolkien death. He dies when the Uruk captain sends three arrows into Boromir's torso at relatively close range, while Boromir was defending Merry and Pippin in the closing pages/minutes of The Fellowship of the Ring. Not only did he die after the arrows were resting comfortably in his torso, but he thought that he was responsible for the terrible death of the Merry and Pippin at the hands of Saruman, but also for the ultimate heat death of Middle Earth, thinking that his actions against Frodo caused the quest of the Fellowship to fail by separating the Ringbearer from those competent enough to protect him.

Denethor: Okay, Denethor wasn’t the nicest of people. He made irrational decisions as Steward of Gondor, was a royal jerk to Faramir (well, a pseudo-royal jerk; he was only steward, not king), and he was responsible for the deaths of the soldiers who attempted to retake Osgiliath. Despite all of that negative karma, did he really deserve this:

            Anyone with some serious daddy issues may think so, but dying with the belief that Gondor has fallen, and even though his son is (miraculously) not dead, he seemed set in his belief that Middle-Earth would fall and burn… Kinda like he did…

Theodin: Going with our theme of dying rulers, let’s look at how Theodin of Rohan bites it. In the Battle of Pelennor Fields, Theodin is attacked by the leader of the Nazgul, The Witch-King of Agmar. And a Fell Beast. From the air. Sneak attack style.

Theodin and horse were then released from the maw of the Fell Beast, resulting in a horse-on-king trajectory. Theodin then was crushed again when the Fell Beast stood on the horse… Sure Theodin died with a sort of peace of mind that we all hope for, but I’d rather not have the horse involved.

Sauron: Yeah, I’m going to sympathize with the villain, because he died not once, but twice (in the movies. The books bring the death count up to 4). First, his fingers are severed, and he explodes

Then, he spends 3000 years or so as a spirit, till he returns… As a great Eye… Lidless, wreathed in flame… You know of what I speak… (the Eye of Sauron) (imagine the gold Mordor has to dish out yearly for the eye drops to keep that under control). Sauron starts getting things working again, re-stokes the fires of Mount Doom, and all of a sudden, bloop, Ring + Volcano. And we get this:

Gandalf: Here’s where it gets ugly. Technically, Gandalf never died… his spirit returned to Valinor, and he trained (kinda), and then was sent back as Gandalf the White. But, think about how long he had to wait. Sure, it was only three days (after fighting a demon for 10 days, you’d be tired too), but each moment was like “a life time of the Earth”… there are 24 hours in a day, so in three days there are 72 hours. In each hour, there are 60 minutes, so 4,320 in three days. And that’s 259,200 seconds. The Earth is currently 4.54 billion years old. If the world ended today (and that was the standard age of the Earth), Gandalf had to wait 1,176,768,000,000,000 years before returning to Middle Earth… and he returned naked on top of a mountain. 

Well, there's your two posts. See y'all next week!

I sit beside the fire and think...

by J. R. R. Tolkien
I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

 “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Wednesday #17 - Spring Break, and Why You Shouldn't Date Superman

HELLO DREAMERS!!!!
       How are you guys doing? Tell me, I want to hear about it. I'm serious, write a comment saying how you're feeling right now (you know you want to). Even if I don't respond to you, simply telling someone how you're feeling will make you feel better (and if you're already on cloud 9, don't get complacent! Cloud 10 is out there, and you're settling for Cloud 9?!?).
     So I recently posted a list of upcoming topics to look forward to, and this week we address a couple of those topics. This week, we're talking about Spring Break and why you should not date Superman... Let's get to it.

Spring Break

     This isn't going to be some crazy story about how I went some where warmer, got drunk, and did stupid things. This is simply a tale of a hike, and a date.

The Hike:

     On the 17th of April (the first day of break), a friend of mine named Tyler and I went on a hike along the AT (Appalachian Trail). We started at Gathland State Park and ended in Harpers Ferry. In total, the hike was about 10 miles long, and was accomplished in about 4 hours (that's 2.5 mph). It was pretty freaking awesome, with jokes and stories, not to mention the killer view at Weverton Cliffs. Of course, there were some B.A. turtles, awesome ice cream cones, and discussions about psychological assault to deter drug use in room mates (a usual hike for me).

The Date:

     So, the National Zoo (sorry, the Smithsonian National Zoological Park) makes for a pretty sweet date. I took my girlfriend there on Friday, to take in the sights (and... interesting... smells) of the various animals there. Totally picked a great entrance point by the Maned Wolf. Which is known for it's distinctly powerful musk, excreted through it urine. 

     Don't I know how to show a girl a good time?

    Urine aside (never thought I'd ever say that), it was really a fun day, even though we didn't get into the reptile house, the small mammal house, the ape house, or Amazonia (lines...). But, we did get to meet one of the coolest birds ever: the Kiwi (not a fruit, a bird).

     The Kiwi come from New Zealand (a series of island south of Australia), which didn't have mammals on the island until humans came to the island. Causing other animals to evolve mammal traits. The Kiwi have really tiny wings. Yep. Tiny, tiny wings.

Why You Shouldn't Date Superman

He'll Kill You:

     Not intentionally, no. Indirectly. In various ways. Like breaking your bones during sex. You think I'm being funny, but I'm not (okay, maybe a little). Superman is best known for his super-human strength. He has the power to quite literally move the moon. And I don't mean George Bailey moon moving, I mean flying into space, and pushing a moon like it was a somewhat heavy couch. If he gets over emotional, tired, or just carried away, you might wind up in the hospital with broken bones galore. 

     He's also being constantly attacked by villains and evil-doers, so if you went on a date with him, chances are you're going to get caught in the crossfire between your hunk of Kryptonian man and another Lex Luthor robot. And unlike Superman, you don't come back to life if you die.

He's Already Married:

     That's right. He's married. Superman (synonymous with Clark Kent) married Louis Lane. Enough said.

You'll Go Broke Buying Sunscreen:

     Superman draws his very life-force from the solar rays of the sun. This means he has to be in near constant exposure to that sweet sweet vitamin D. Assuming that you're definition of dating someone means being around them often, the amount of sun screen you'd need to not shade you skin the same color as your date's cape will make you more broke than your bones after you fell from a tall building that Superman caught you from (it's a physics things: he wouldn't have been able to reduce speed in time to catch Louis without breaking her human bones). You had better hope investigative journalism is a lucrative career.

You'll Get No Privacy:

     Superman has telescopic, x-ray vision. Not assuming weird perverted things, he could see you were ever you are. That means if he wants to find you, he will. And you can't plan surprises either. Whether he hears it with his super hearing or hears it when he reads your mind, he'll know. I hope you don't like the occasional alone time. 

He's Never Home:

     Not that you'll ever see him. Whether it's training somewhere, visiting his adoptive parents, fighting crime in Metropolis, or in the Galaxy when he helps Green Lantern, or when ever the Justice League calls him in. Or if he goes on assignment for his job (you know, that thing he often forgets he has).

You'll Never Be Right:

     With a perfect photographic memory, a super brain, and the memory skills to quickly learn and memorize DNA, you'll never need a fact check again. Especially when you're arguing with him.

He Can Be Toppled By Pubescent Wizards:

     Superman is weak to magic. Not just Kryptonite. But also 11 year-old Brits with little sticks (Harry Potter, so we're all clear). That's right, you're amazing superhero boyfriend can clear buildings in a single bound, move planets, reverse time, shoot lasers, turn invisible, and produce an impact equivalent to 10 octillion megatons (which is equal to dropping 2,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 Tsar Bomba nukes, the most powerful bomb humanity has made) can be dropped by a swish and flick. 

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

- William Blake

"Did you just barf that out your neck?" - Teresa Svincek

Wednesday #14 - HIMYM Finale

     Hey Dreamers! How's it going? So... a lot happened this week, didn't it? Maybe not for everyone, but for me at least, that's the case. How I Met Your Mother premiered its series finale, so that's over. Mother Nature threw a hissy fit on Sunday, while I was trying to deliver several hundred bags of mulch to people. The percussion ensemble I was in went to Championships on Saturday (we got 5th out of 5...). The last term of this school year started on Monday. I got introduced to chinchillas. Several relationships that my friends had found terminus in the past week. Oh, and my grandfather turns 87 today. Happy Birthday Grandpa!
     It was one of those weeks that makes it feel like nothing in your life stayed the same. Sure, I'm still writing for the same old blog, on the same keyboard, at the same desk, in the same room. I'm seeing everything through the same glasses, with the same eyes.
     But everything feels different.
     Normally, I'd spend my entire night working on homework, wondering how on earth am I going to get everything done in time for their due dates, but not tonight. Normally, I listening to Rhett & Link shoot the breeze about anything while I read some book for AP Lang, but not tonight.
     Tonight I'm sitting at the same old desk, in the same old room, with the same computer and keyboard, but it couldn't be anymore different. I feel older, almost like I'm the clinging remains of a bygone era. I'm one of the last relics of a time when writing blogs was a cool thing, when reading books wasn't stupid. I'm the dying breed of the rare Experiencer. Most people walk about in their hum-drum lives, going from point A to point B, and typically, I fit that mold (unfortunately). Tonight, though, something's different.
     Sure, it could simply be that I'm just being introspective over the ending of things, in that gray area between the end of the old and the beginning of the new (okay, to the person that I said smelled really good today, I just somehow smelt you out of nowhere), but it could also very well be that I've changed, and (I hope) for the better.
     I realize this may be a huge reaction to a show ending that I only started watching in... maybe 2011? and even then, just old episodes, but it was such a major part (major part) of my life, and now it's vanished. Not only that, but now everyone I talk to seems to decry the show, angered and enraged even at the series finale.
     There isn't really much I can say, for spoilers sake, and for your sake, Dreamers, except that I'm just going to remember the big thing that HIMYM taught us: Life is full of unexpected turns, and you never really know where it's taking you. All you can do is make every night legend-waitforit-dary, go where you can (because when in Rome, make like the Romans), do something you love, find someone to love, and never forget the big moments, be it weddings, funerals, births, or rainy nights with a blue French horn, because it's all leading up to something, one fateful day, one destiny-driven train wreck of a night, one... something.
     I guess, this is good-bye, How I Met Your Mother. Thank you for all that you taught me, all the jokes you told, the crappy days turned good, that awesome apartment just above a cool bar... Thank you for everything. I'll miss you, and I cannot believe I went this entire post without spoiling anything. Strange...
It's Been Fun

All those days
Of practiced plays
And hours spent in the sun
Problems and tests
All doing our best
But now those days are done
The chattering halls
The rises and falls
It really was a good run
The battles of old
Their stories retold
Of those days that were won
The ties and strings
The memory clings
From the day when we begun
We've traveled so long
To many a song
And I have to say, it's been fun. 

"And that kids, is how I met you mother." -Theodore Evelynn Mosby, How I Met Your Mother 2014

Wednesday #11 - Bro?

Hello Dreamers!

Bro?

​“Come at me Bro!’, “Bros before ho’s”, and “the BroCode.” All of these sentences have one blatantly evident similarity: the word “Bro”.  As the word seeps into everyday use, one can’t help but wonder: what is a Bro? From frat boys to drama geeks, this (typically) male label is applied to so many variants of the modern male spectrum, breaking down social barriers previously thought impregnable. The question still stands: Who or what are Bros, and how can you tells who is a Bro?

​It doesn’t take a literary genius to realize the Bro derives from “brother”, but it does take an adept observer to realize the difference. Brother, defined by Merriam-Webster’s dictionary, means “a male who has the same parents as another or one parent in common with another”, but Bros don’t (usually) share parents. Through their own life, Bros meet each other, and become Bros. But can someone become a Bro? Some may be born Bros, but many become them through following the Articles of The Bro Code, a book that contains every and all the de facto rules for interaction between Bros, and how a Bro lives.It establishes the “Wingman” (Kuhn 24), a partner in crime and a side-kick in picking up girls (which would appear to be the main focus of Bros).

Just because Bro and brother both refer directly to male comrades doesn’t necessarily mean females haven’t or can’t become “Bros”. In fact, in the “holy” text of Bros, known as The Bro Code clearly states in Article 22:  “There is no law that prohibits a woman from being a Bro.” (34) While this article comes into conflict with Article 4: “A Bro never divulges the existence of the Bro Code to a woman.” (14), it can be assumed that once a woman has made the transition from the role of chick into the role of Bro based on the Bro-chick dichotomy, The Bro Code may be revealed to her. But that begs the question: What makes a Bro a Bro?

​A Bro will never grow a mustache, never splits a desert with fellow Bros, never comparison shops, never wears pink.Bros never cuddle, nor share a hotel bed if couches or the floorare available. A Bro isn’t vegetarian, he isn’t a spell-checker, he doesn’t reveal the scores of sport games, he doesn’t leave a Bro without posted bail (unless it’s crazy expensive), and he doesn’t accept help from his fellow Bros when he’s carrying things (except expensive TVs or moving anything into an expensive car). Bros follow these constraints not only to the word, but willingly.

A Bro is more than a friend. He is the kind of person trusted with secrets, delicate tasks, and your car. A Bro is the friend that is there for you because he needs you to help him move, but will only compensate you with lunch.  A Bro is always psyched, even if he isn’t, because that’s what his Bros need him to be. A Bro will ask you if you need help, even if he doesn’t plan to ever give it, because you shouldn’t really need it. A Bro is, essentially, a brother from another mother. But how does one differentiate a Bro from the rest of the crowd?

There are several distinct methods one can use to determine if someone is a Bro or not. One favorite method is something called the “Bro-five”. These can be as simple as the commonhigh five to something as complex and intricate as the Atomic High Five, but are all assured signs of Bros. Or rather, they were. The act of the high five has unknown origins and so it is difficult to determine with any certainty if the Bro and the high five have a shared creation, but it can be certain that a high five or fist bump is an act performed between two Bros. The act of the Bro-five is so important to Bro-culture that Article 107 ofThe Bro Code forbids a Bro from leaving another Bro “hanging”, or without a high five or fist bump (138)

While the Bros can be sifted out through the crowd with the Bro-five, the only true way to determine whether or not someone is a Bro is by becoming their Bro. By becoming someone’s Bro, the complete understanding of what a makes a Bro a Bro is revealed: love. Sure, it’s sappy, but it’s the truth. Love is what keeps a Bro going for his Bros, and keeps him in line with The Code. It’s not just a mutual arrangement that keeps Bros together, but a mutual caring towards each other (and doesn’t that make you want to break Article 41: “A Bro never cries.”) that allows for such a close and strong relationship between Bros (59).

Bros: the best friend of a lonely dude, but the worst enemy of the bachelorette party. A semi-hidden world that exists around us, where Wingmen and Bros leading the charge against the single occupants of bars and clubs everywhere. Some call it noble, others disgusting, but it’s truly a beauty of nature (yeah, it’s disgusting). People can go their whole lives, never seeing a Bro, but know that they’re out there, in the frat houses and the male dressing rooms, always looking out for each other, and wearing their hats either in a 12 o’clock or 6 o’clock fashion.

   

     So, I realize what happened. I clicked publish last night, but it didn't work (for some strange reason). Just so we're all aware, this was finished before Wednesday! I just didn't check to see if it went up. Sorry.

And now a poem and a quote

 The Next Day

Many people dream of the next day

the one the follows our sleep

the one filled with unknown

it rises when we do

full of hope and promise 

Many people wait for the next day

the one that the need to go on

the one that says a is better

it rises when we do

full of hope and promise

Many people waste this day

the one that happens right now

the one that we waited for last

it rose when we did

ignored for tomorrow

-JD Galuardi

"The higher the monkey climbs the more he shows his behind"- Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

Works Cited

"Brother." Merriam-Webster. Merriam-Webster, n.d. Web. 03 Mar. 2014.

Kuhn, Matt. The Bro Code. New York: Fireside, 2008. Print.

Wednesday #7 - Cats: How I Love To Hate Them

     Hey everybody, how are you all doing? I hope just a little better, because it's Wednesday!!! So, nobody sent anything as to a name... so that's not happening...
     Well, I've got a lot that I could talk about this week. I could talk about the Olympics, about Valentine's Day, or I could talk about the impending doom of snow that is waiting in the sky right now. This in consideration, I feel more drawn to talking about cats. I both love and hate cats, and for
what I feel are good reasons.

Why I Love Cats

     Cats make for wonderful companions, to be honest. If you're able to bond with them, and if you're able to get from them the closest thing that they have to trust, you'll find that they make for good company. They are very... interesting to watch as they go crazy over whatever their particular fascination is (shining things, things that make weird noises, birds, things that dangle), and make for good (for lack of a better word) toys if you can manipulate the thing that they are fascinated with (yes, is said toys)(get over it people). They are relatively low maintenance, requiring only food, water, and a place to defecate (which does require regular cleaning). They can easily entertain themselves, and things like brushing them and medical care require little time, as they don't really have to happen all that often. All in all, cats are good pets, especially because of their smaller size and space necessary for a happy life.

Why I Hate Cats

    Who wouldn't hate the Devil? Cats are, put blatantly, evil. They see themselves as the lords of all that they see, walking with such pomp and circumstance in their step. They demand of their owners the world, and will complain to no end if their life is less than optimal. One day, within the last week, I was going to sleep late (a rare privilege), but my cat had other plans. It was 4:06 when the assault began (for a frame of reference, I usually get up at 6:20), and I found my REM sleep under the attack of a cat sitting on my chest and face, cutting off breathing. I awoke from my sleep, but still laid in bed, groggy from my early rising. My initial movement was obviously a cue to my cat to start nudging my face. By nudge I don't mean a few light touches of the face, but instead a ramming speed of a Roman trireme put into the face of a cat, put behind a headbutt straight to the face (I swear, the cat was trying to break my nose). 

It's Okay

     For all of the cat haters, I'm sure you're thinking:

"YES!! Do away with those damn cats!"

And for the cat lovers, I'm sure you're thinking:

"YOU EVIL EVIL MAN! THERE IS A SPECIAL PLACE IN HELL FOR THE LIKES OF YOU!" 

To both of these people I have the same response: Good for you. I know that expressing an opinion is going to ruffle feathers (even with cats. I mean, it's not like I'm talking about abortion or anything)(Ohhh... Dang it... I shouldn't have said that...), but it's not like I'm going to start serializing the murders of felines, but I'm also not going to start taking in strays off of the streets. It's as simple as that.

Stream

Following a Stream

Is like following a dream

As it all unfolds,

The story is told

The dream moves around, flowing every which way,

Until the stream trickles into the light of day

And just like life, that stream is a journey

Whether you sleep in a bed, or a hospital gurney.

We all have dreams, a stream to follow

Wheter those dreams are fulfilled or the dream is hollow

So lets get moving, the days almost done

And while we’re following the stream, lets have some fun

  "They said make your favorite meal, and I want to make a sandwich with meat and uh... salad." -Seth Rihn

Wednesday #5 - The Optimist, The Pessimist, and In Between

     Hello everyone! How's everybody doing? It's Wednesday, and I'm sure you know what that means... A NEW BLOG POST! That's right folks, every Wednesday for the next year, something is going up on this blog, so be sure to check in on it! This week, I want to talk about something I was discussing with some friends (when we probably should've been practicing music..)(I'm in a percussion ensemble, this is where this topic originated, or at least for my discussion). Now, let's examine the differences between optimist, realistic optimists, realist, and pessimists, and how they are distinguishable.

The Optimist

     An optimist is often thought of as someone who thinks that everything is great, that every thing is grand (I've got the whole wide world in the palm of my hand...). They believe that, even when things aren't going great, they still will turn around, and everything will turn out just fine. Throughout this discussion, I'm going to make use of a hypothetical math test to explain the four different styles of thinking, and what the expected results are. Let's suppose that you were going into a math test for a class you were taking. For this particular test, you are worried with the grade you are going to earn on it. This worry is because you didn't entirely understand the concepts going to be tested on when they were taught in class, and you didn't study much/well in preparation for the test. In this situation, the optimist wouldn't be shaken on how ill prepared they were. They would think thoughts such as "I'm good at math, I can do well on this test!" or "It's gonna be fine, I'm sure that the test is gonna be easy". In very extreme cases it would be like "I am always going to be good at what I do, and will succeed in everything." In this experiment, the Optimist will think that they will be earning an A, when in fact they tested for a C or maybe a B.
     While being optimistic is good, it can lead to problems. When the delusions of grandeur fall through, the Optimist is left disheartened of course, but that's not the real problem. An Optimist will, despite things often going against them, continue to believe that everything is going their way, and will make irrational decisions based on unlikely chances and high risks of failure.

The Realistic Optimist

     While the Optimist is illogical, and honestly impossible for someone to be a complete optimist, there are a lot of optimistic people. These, I call Realistic Optimists, or R.O.'s for short (things are more legit when they have shortened names, like JFK, NASA, or GTFO)(except for YOLO. YOLO is stupid, and will cause immediate defenestration). You are, most likely, an R.O. dear reader. If you look on the bright side of life, look for the good things that happen, but are still able to comprehend you may not succeed at things, that things will sometimes go against you. As an R.O. you can except [editor's note, it should be accept] that there will be battles that you will lose, despite your hardest effort. In the Math Test Scenario, you would think something like "okay, I didn't really prepare, but I can at least pass this test, maybe get a B on it." This style of thinking is fairly accurate, still leaving room for failure while supporting unexpected success.

     This sort of thinking is (in my personal opinion) the best of the four I will be describing. While it does have it's own weaknesses (the blues will last longer, if an R.O. falls from thinking happy), it allows for life to be enjoyed more, with hopes and dreams that might not be possible still hopeable  (not a word, I know) and dreamable (again, I know).

The Realist

    If you weren't an R.O., chances are you fall into the category of the Realist. I find that Realists are less common then R.O.s, partially because a lot of people give off an optimistic attitude, masking the Realist inside (not to say that being a Realist is bad, but it can be a Debbie Downer). Realists will see things as they are, and can very easily be both optimistic and pessimistic about things. They are less likely to make plans into the future if there is enough uncertainty in them, they won't typically lie about their emotions, and they will often act as a sort of reality check for really optimistic thoughts. They will occasionally not allow themselves to conjure up or entertain fairly irrational ideas involving themselves (they won't believe that they can suddenly change around their lives and become a gold winning Olympic athlete in several years). In our Math Test Scenario, they will realize that they will not perform exceedingly well, but are able to aptly judge their own abilities and know their own limitations.

     The Realist is honestly a fine mindset, but from the several Realist I know (to the Realists who think I'm speaking directly to them, yes I do know more Realists than just you), it can often be demoralizing, and may lead to more pessimistic thoughts than optimistic ones.

The Pessimist

     "The worst of the worst is going to happen", thinks the Pessimist. Much like the Optimist, no one is a complete and true Pessimist. The closest thing you will find is someone who is clinically depressed (which is not good, and if you find yourself thinking you're depressed, talk to someone you trust. Depression is a serious problem), but in a "healthy" mindset, there aren't Pessimists, just pessimism. Pessimism will manifest itself as negative thoughts, believing that the Universe is going against you, nothing will ever go your way. In the Math Test Scenario, the Pessimist believes that they will fail, completely and utterly, when they could easily get a C or a D (a D is still failing though). 

     Pessimism is almost a societal poison. It breeds negativity, denies happiness, and can even take lives. If you honestly think you're a Pessimist, I'm going to tell you now that you simply aren't. You're just a Realist with some negative thoughts. 

     Well, that's about all that I have time for this week. I'll see you guys all next week, but don't forget to leave a comment below about which of the four you think you are, or what should I talk about next week? Also, I may be posting things on the blog not on Wednesdays. These are going to be called Wednesday Extras, and they could be things like a story I wrote, some photos I may have taken, or essays that I write. If you like that idea, let me know.

     I now end this post in the way that it is done

Almost Man

i almost saw an almost man,

he waved at me with his almost hands,

i almost waved when i saw him there

almost alone in his almost chair

it almost seemed like he waited for me

so i invited him in and almost gave him tea

the visit felt good, almost right,

although he stayed almost till night

and as he almost walked out into the snow

i think he almost said goodbye bye, but i'll never know

"JD IS ONE WITH THE UNIVERSE" -Claire Schiavone